


A Secret With Tentacles

by twizzle



Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cock & Ball Torture, Forced Deepthroat/Choking on a Dick, M/M, Object Insertion, Raped by Monsters, Rough Oral Sex, Something Made Them Do It, Tentacle Monster - Freeform, Tentacle Rape, all the way through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 22:20:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11427387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twizzle/pseuds/twizzle
Summary: Written for nonconathon2017Khadgar has a secret. An embarrassing secret. A secret with tentacles. This is what happens when Lothar discovers it.Set after the Warcraft movie; contains movie spoilers.





	A Secret With Tentacles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/gifts).



> This was written for [nonconathon 2017](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/nonconathon2017/profile). As such, it contains explicit non-consensual sex written to titillate.
> 
> If you do not want to read noncon presented in that way, do not read this fic.

He had hoped the fel had killed it.

It had been a short-lived hope, one borne more out of desperation than logic. He had tasted the death and greed of the fel when he had taken it into himself, felt it grate against him and within him in a rotten burn that had threatened to consume him. Its expulsion had felt like he had torn away a part of him and expulsed all that was foul in one blast of light… but the low ache in his balls and the deep itch inside told him the creature had survived, and was hungry.

Hardly a comforting thought, but knowing it was not of the fel gave Khadgar reason to feel he should be grateful. Perhaps if he had let the fel infiltrate further rather than banishing it immediately, it could have hooked its claws into the creature and dragged it out with it - but no. Khadgar could not have allowed the fel any more time; it had been foolish and risky enough to draw it into himself even for the brief seconds he had. Had he not been in Karazhan at the time, with the leylines amplifying his abilities… well. He did not really want to think on it.

He busied himself with tidying his quarters; the room was more than large enough to suit his needs, but somehow he seemed to fill it with papers regardless. He stooped to pluck a drawing of a troll from where it had fallen but paused when he felt an insistent tingle at the base of his cock. Almost a vibration, the rippling sensation was designed to arouse.

He slowed his movements, a careful attempt to calm the creature and prevent himself becoming too stimulated. But still it hummed against him, deep and seductive in a way that made him shiver and crease the paper he held.

Khadgar closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose; he could ignore it. He could make it wait. It had been blessedly quiet in recent days, allowing him full concentration on his duties - a fact that had made him wonder, on more than one occasion, if the creature was able to sense his moods and feelings… or worse, read his thoughts. But he dismissed them, telling himself he could not find the answer even if he tried - despite the part of his conscience that corrected that he likely _would_ find the answer, but avoided investigation out of fear of being disturbed by the outcome. 

Warmth pressed against the underside of his shaft and gave his balls a gentle squeeze; Khadgar’s breath hitched, a moan caught at the back of his throat as he felt himself stir at the careful handling. Sometimes it teased him like this - a game of slow burning arousal until he was so turned on he could not think and was desperate for release. Other times the creature proceeded with seemingly no notice - or care - of Khadgar’s own state, leaving him to trick his body into arousal in an attempt to enjoy the orgasm he knew it would draw from him regardless.

“Not now,” Khadgar muttered, the vocalisation unconsciously uttered as he screwed his eyes shut. He did not have time for this. He was due to meet with Lothar this afternoon; their first official meeting as Regent and Mage Consul. A meeting he would not make in time if he gave in to the creature’s demands as he would _definitely_ need to bathe again before leaving the privacy of his quarters.

This embarrassing problem would have to wait; sadly, he couldn’t communicate that to it. An annoyed glance at his crotch was as close as he got, a mental list of excuses prepared and fired off just in case it _could_ listen to his mind.

He could feel the shift of his trousers against his cock as a barely pleasurable whisper as he moved, small steps to his desk to stack the now fairly rumpled papers on their kin. He was already half hard, even as he willed his arousal away.

A deep breath. He could fight this.

Khadgar stared down at his writing desk, thoughts on his rapidly growing problem but gaze focused on the grain of the wood. Maybe he could make a bargain with it, appease it by just taking the edge off. He rocked forwards, letting his crotch rub against the edge of the table. The creature teased him with a flutter of sensation from his balls to his tip - a reward, or perhaps encouragement? Khadgar’s breath juddered as he exhaled, the stimulation not even close to enough.

A sharp rap on the door startled him, his head snapping up as it swung open.

“Get out.” Khadgar did not bother being polite.

“Should have locked your door if you didn’t want visitors.” Lothar grinned as he shut the door behind him, leaning back against it with arms crossed. His head cocked to the side as he took in the scene before him. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“It’s nothing,” Khadgar said, attempting to refocus. The flutter was insistent - a punishment, he now reasoned - torture, to test his determination and composure.

“You don’t grump about nothing. If it’s got you this worried, spill it.”

Khadgar took another deep breath, this time against his frustration rather than his arousal. Clenched hands slowly relaxed, palms placed down on the surface before him. His hands were shaking.

“It’s _nothing_ ,” Khadgar repeated, stressing his point. If he could get Lothar to leave now, maybe his friend would not notice his predicament. He could feel his breath coming quicker, the flutter unrelenting and pressing just hard enough to send small spikes of pleasure into his chest and warmth rising to his face. The swipe of something warm and damp behind his balls caught his breath, a sharp inhalation quickly covered by a cough.

His fingertips were white where they pressed hard against the tabletop.

Lothar frowned.

“You’re sweating. Khadgar, what’s wrong?” Concern replaced the joviality in his tone, and Khadgar flinched when the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. When had Lothar moved? And more importantly, how had he not noticed?

“Don’t touch me,” Khadgar snapped, jerking away from it as he stepped to the side. “Just for now, leave me be.”

Lothar shook his head.

“Not in this condition. Do you have any healing potions? You must have something other than books and parchment in that bag you insist on dragging around everywhere.”

“I’m not-”

“No protests. You need to rest at the very least, and I’ll send for a healer. There’s no shame in being ill.”

“But-”

“Save it for them. For now, you’re on bed rest.”

Lothar reached out to support him and Khadgar panicked. Drawing power to himself, he prepared to blink as he tried to evaluate the best direction, warnings about getting stuck in walls or tripping over the terrain whirling in his mind; but Lothar was quick. His hand was over Khadgar’s mouth before he could muster even the first syllable to his lips and Khadgar found himself pinned bodily to the railing that separated his sleeping and working areas, his head pressed back against the balusters almost painfully hard. The palm of his hand tingled with the arcane, the structured order repeatedly forming and dispersing as he felt his command over it slip, his focus rapidly shifting from the spell to how tightly Lothar held his wrist, how his arm ached from being held so taught away from them, how his cock felt so heavy and how it would be so easy to rock forwards and rub against Lothar’s leg-

“None of that, spell chucker,” Lothar said with a wry smile, one that recognised the humour in finding themselves in this situation once more. “I’m not going to let you go until you promise not to try that again. Do I have your word? Or will I have to gag you?”

Khadgar gasped at his words, eyes falling shut as a probing tendril pressed against his hole. He felt helpless and trapped and hopelessly turned on, and _light_ if that didn’t do things for him...

Lothar’s fingers flexed against his wrist as he waited.

The arcane spluttered and faded, Khadgar’s hand closing into a loose fist as the light dimmed and vanished. Keeping his eyes closed, he nodded as best he could with Lothar’s hand holding his face so firmly. He shuddered as one of the creature’s tentacles pressed into his ass, the blunt burn immediately soothed by whatever it excreted to keep it moist. He could feel every small ridge as it eased in, and struggled not to let it show on his face. Instead, an undignified noise escaped his nose before Lothar moved his hand - a slow, cautious movement - and rested it against Khadgar’s shoulder, keeping him standing and supported.

“Lothar,” Khadgar said as soon as his mouth was free, “I need you to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Please,” Khadgar said. He could feel the tentacle reach deeper inside him, flexing and twisting as it stretched and filled him. He wanted more. He needed more. He grit his teeth and shook his head, before opening his eyes to meet his friend’s steady gaze. “Lothar, please go. I can’t hold it back any longer.”

“Hold what back?”

“ _Damnit_ Lothar why can’t you just go and not question it?”

“Because when a mage says something like that it’s not something to ignore.”

The creature pulsed in his ass, sending a ripple of pleasure through Khadgar that buckled his knees. He lost control only for a moment, but it was enough to tip him forwards into Lothar. He saw the concerned confusion etched on Lothar’s face as they collided, the press of Lothar’s hand hurting as he leant his weight onto it. He moaned as his erection rubbed against Lothar’s thigh - the warm, solid presence a welcome change from the creature’s light teasings. Not that there was anything teasing about the tentacle that was buried in his ass, pulsing steadily as it began to draw out only to push in harder, feeling thicker, Khadgar’s hips rocking in sympathy and grinding himself against Lothar’s leg. 

Lothar held very still.

But to Khadgar it felt so very _good_. Wonderful friction rubbed against his cock, muted and yet elevated by the pants that held him restricted but secure. He gasped and pressed his head into Lothar’s shoulder, lips seeking flesh that was revealed above his collar. He inhaled the scent of leather and nuzzled his neck, tasting his skin in an open-mouthed kiss. 

Lothar pushed back where his hand was still on Khadgar’s shoulder, putting a small amount of distance between him and his neck.

“I’m...flattered,” Lothar said, sounding nothing of the sort. He ran a hand through his hair and his eyes darted around the room, looking at everything but Khadgar. “But I don’t want- I’m not inclined-”

Khadgar shook his head and felt embarrassment rise hotly to his cheeks. A tentacle wrapped around the base of his cock, an insistent pressure that restricted blood flow and heightened sensation; another tightened around the top of his balls, holding them away from his body in a delightful stretch that burned with almost pain.

 _That’s okay_ he wanted to say. _I’m sorry I put you in this position._ But his mouth had other ideas.

“It won’t care,” Khadgar said instead, and surged forwards again to bury his face into Lothar’s neck, unable to stop himself. He felt the creature trill with delight, tips of tentacles beating a fast rhythm on the stretched skin of Khadgar’s balls before enveloping them to squeeze enough to make him gasp. Lothar’s beard scraped against his cheek and Khadgar bit his skin instinctively, against the pleasure-pain in his balls, and a sudden desire to mark his skin with a bruising kiss.

Harsh words vibrated through Lothar and Khadgar tasted their sting. Lothar flung him back - or would have, but succeeded only in flinging Khadgar against the railing. But it was enough for Lothar to slip from his grasp, and Khadgar let out a pained wail and fell to his knees at the lost contact, the creature’s tentacles tightening beyond his limit.

“Please, Lothar!” Khadgar scrabbled towards him desperately, the creature’s rage at being denied manifesting in painful spasms that had him curling in on himself, hands buried in his crotch, fingers digging into his skin to try and brace against them. It felt like they ran through his whole body - whether a trick of his mind, the body’s natural reaction, or an indication that the creature gripped more than just externally, he did not know. All he knew was pain.

Lothar crouched before him and grabbed Khadgar by the hair, pulling his head up to get a proper look at his face. The sharpness of Lothar’s stare was dangerous, snapping straight to Khadgar’s eyes to search for anything amiss. There was no green. There was no fel. But he found Khadgar’s eyes glazed and heavy-lidded, his pupils unnaturally wide; and his eyes fixed on Lothar’s in a way that made him feel uneasy.

The reunited contact spread a rush of endorphins through Khadgar and he moaned, his face going slack as pleasure spread through him. In what he could only think was a reward, Khadgar felt the tentacles loosen their grip, soothing the prickling pain of sensation returning with small caresses.

“Something’s very wrong with you.” 

Khadgar swallowed.

“I know.”

Lothar released his grip and began to stand, but was stopped by Khadgar’s shaking hand on his arm.

“It hurt when you stepped away - I felt pain convulsing inside. You’re part of this, now - It needs you. _I_ need you.”

“Part of _what?_ ” Lothar said. Rather than leave him in a boneless slouch, he hauled Khadgar upright, noting how Khadgar clung to his tunic and the way his fingers stroked an insistent pattern on his sleeve.

“If you had left when I asked…” Khadgar muttered, his head bowed.

“If I had left, you would be dealing with whatever this is on your own.”

Khadgar was trembling. He had not told anyone about it after being forbidden to.

“It was an accident.” His voice was small, quiet. “I wasn’t supposed to- But I was curious- I’d never seen anything like it before, I’d never even _read_ about anything like it-”

It was the first time Lothar had heard Khadgar sound uncertain. He sounded _vulnerable_.

“I didn't know it would...didn’t think it would- But then it wouldn’t _go away-_ ”

Khadgar could hear his tutor’s voice in his mind, could remember the sound of their disappointment when he came to them in terror at what he had unleashed upon himself:

_“The study of certain artifacts, spells and conjurations are restricted. Others are prohibited. You were warned, were you not, that your determined continuation of a study of forbidden arts would have negative consequences? The Arcane is ordered; it is calculated and understood. We know what can be done, and how to unravel what must be undone. You have unleashed chaos and darkness upon yourself, blights we do not have a remedy for. You have learnt the hard way that some things are forbidden not because we do not wish you to learn - but because we do not understand them well enough ourselves to expose you to them in good conscience. I cannot help you, Khadgar. This is your burden.”_

Khadgar looked up at Lothar with tears in his eyes, physical evidence betraying the shame that welled inside. A shaking hand came up to wipe them away, humiliation and frustration warring for dominance as Khadgar steeled himself to tell Lothar about the creature.

“I need your help. But I also need your confidence.”

Lothar gave a curt nod.

“You have it, unless I deem what you say to be a threat to the kingdom.”

Khadgar winced at his words.

“I assure you, it’s not. Usually it affects only me, but now…” Khadgar took a shuddering breath, feeling the strange, strangled sensation of tears unshed mixed with tense apprehension and excited arousal. The tentacle in his ass resumed its slow fucking, as another began to flick and tease the sensitive skin around where they were joined. “Place your hand on my shoulder. We need to maintain contact.”

Lothar did as he asked, and watched as Khadgar reached down to unfasten his pants.

“If this is meant to be some sort of joke-” Lothar warned.

Khadgar shook his head and bit his lip. His eyes stung and he found himself unable to look at Lothar as he eased his pants down.

Lothar stepped back as if burned, releasing Khadgar with a jerk as he reached for a knife concealed in his tunic. Khadgar felt the tentacles restrict and choked on a pained gasp, snatching Lothar’s other hand to prevent him moving too far. At the contact, the creature relaxed.

“What in the _light_ is that?” Lothar snapped, brandishing the blade.

“I don’t know, not fully,” Khadgar admitted. Embarrassment prickled hotly on his cheeks. “The Kirin Tor kept it in a hidden vault that I, ah, _acquired_ the key to. They didn’t know either. But whatever it is, it’s bound to me.” 

Lothar stared in horror at the shadowy creature wrapped around Khadgar’s groin; a dark, foreboding apparition that seemed to both exist and not at once. Tentacles writhed within the phantom mass, caressing Khadgar’s skin as it continually shifted in shape and form. Some shimmered with moisture; others seemed to have a texture more akin to skin. It was almost hypnotic, the way it moved. An undulation revealed a dark pink, bulbous tip - and Lothar flushed with the realisation that it was the head of Khadgar’s cock.

“I can’t touch it, but it can touch me. Your knife will do no good - try to cut it, and you’ll just cut me instead.”

Lothar looked unconvinced.

“I’ve tried it. Fire, frost, and arcane magic too. Put the knife away, please.”

“I think I’ll feel safer with it out.”

Khadgar let out a huff of frustration.

“Well I _won’t_. I don’t want an injury like that again. Besides, you’ll be fine. You don’t even have to touch it.”

“ _Obviously_ I’m not going to touch it; and in case you hadn’t noticed, I actually have some skill with a blade.”

Khadgar opened his mouth in retort, but succeeded only in voicing a startled yelp as he felt the pointed tip of an exploratory tentacle poke at the opening of his urethra.

“...Khadgar?”

Khadgar nodded, and took a deep breath to steady himself before he continued his explanation, the tentacle thankfully moving to a less attention-demanding place.

“Ultimately it’s harmless, as far as I can discern - but there’s no way to be rid of it. Everything I’ve tried to remove it has failed.”

“It doesn’t sound harmless.”

Khadgar ignored him.

“It feeds on energy. Sexual energy, to be precise. Usually I can keep it content by myself, but it’s… taken a liking to you.”

“Just because it likes me doesn’t mean I’m going to let it touch me.”

“You don’t have to.” Khadgar swallowed and looked away. “But it’s made it very clear that I need to give it your energy - it wouldn’t hurt me when we separated otherwise.”

“How do you propose to do that?”

Khadgar blushed.

“It would probably prefer copulation, but I take it you wouldn’t want… no. I could, perhaps-” Khadgar licked his lips, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. “I could fellate you.”

Lothar stared at him.

“I think that should appease it, then you should be able to leave without consequence.”

Lothar gave a curt nod but remained quiet; thankfully, though, he sheathed the knife. Taking that as as close to an agreement as he might get, Khadgar took the opportunity to shuffle closer. He ran his hands slowly down Lothar’s front, knowing Lothar would feel it despite the reinforced tunic he wore. He leant in to nuzzle again at Lothar’s neck and pressed his lips to the reddened, slightly bruised spot he had bitten a few minutes before.

Noticing Lothar remained unmoving, Khadgar pressed himself closer, willing his heat and arousal to transfer between them. He stroked up into Lothar’s hair, catching his mane between his fingers, pulling in the way he liked his own hair to be pulled as he kissed a trail along Lothar’s collar.

When Lothar still did not respond, Khadgar grimaced and let out a sigh.

“You can pretend- it might be easier if you imagine I’m someone else.”

“I plan to.”

The coldness of Lothar’s response caught Khadgar off guard, despite it having been his suggestion.

“Right,” he muttered, trying to regain his composure, “Let’s… well.”

Khadgar reached for the clasps on Lothar’s tunic.

“What are you doing?”

Khadgar frowned up at him.

“Undressing you?”

Lothar shook his head.

“You need my cock, not my chest.” He placed a firm hand on Khadgar’s shoulder and pushed him down. “I’m going to be imagining you’re a whore. Try to act like one.”

“I have a moustache.”

Lothar stared forward resolutely and did not answer.

Khadgar found himself on his knees, Lothar’s leather-clad crotch in front of him, visibly unexcited. Khadgar took a deep breath and rested his hands flat against Lothar’s thighs. He ran his hands over the leather, caressing firmly, feeling how warm it was from sitting beside Lothar’s skin. He avoided his crotch as he ran his hands up, under Lothar’s tunic, rucking his shirt as his fingers sought his waistband. Meeting skin, Khadgar followed it along the top of his pants, keeping the pressure just shy of tickling. Feeling the muscles of Lothar’s stomach flutter and contract under his hands made Khadgar smile; he had aroused himself for the creature’s needs before, and it seemed Lothar reacted to similar stimulus.

He chanced a glance up and saw Lothar’s eyes closed tight, his brow furrowed. Khadgar pressed his cheek against Lothar’s hip, inhaling the musk and leather as he let his hands drift back down, teasing over the slight hardness that had begun to grow. He nuzzled against it, feeling Lothar’s hardening cock through the leather with his lips, the creature stirring as it felt Khadgar’s anticipation.

“Damnit,” Lothar muttered and unfastened his trousers. Khadgar smirked; maybe it was not Khadgar’s anticipation the creature had felt.

Khadgar slid Lothar’s pants down his legs, leaving them bunched at the top of his boots. His underclothes were simple cloth shorts, easy enough to remove with a tug to settle beneath his knees. Khadgar inhaled sharply when he revealed Lothar’s erection; harder than he had expected him to be, Lothar’s enjoyment of the situation despite his discomfort was obvious. Khadgar could not stop himself - he leant in and swiped his tongue along the length of him, hands resuming their caress of his thighs, now unclothed but covered in soft hair that let his hands glide.

“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.” Khadgar said.

“You can start by shutting up,” Lothar replied, “I can’t imagine you’re someone else when you’re talking.”

His words stung, but Khadgar knew it was Lothar’s way of coping. Putting them out of his mind, he sucked the tip of Lothar’s cock into his mouth, holding his shaft steady while his other hand continued its exploration of Lothar’s exposed skin. He bobbed his head, taking in slightly more before drawing back to lick his lips, wetting them.

Lothar moaned when Khadgar took him into his mouth again; Khadgar did his best to take him deep, his tongue working, tasting, feeling the girth and heat of the cock that lay heavily on it. He dug his fingers into Lothar’s hip and swallowed against his tip, breathing heavily through his nose each time he drew back. The tentacle in his ass matched the pace he set, mimicking his movements; it was all too easy to imagine it was Lothar’s cock, and the thought of being filled by him in such a way made Khadgar shiver.

“You have soft hands.” The suddenness of Lothar’s words surprised Khadgar, who made a startled noise of enquiry around his cock that vibrated through Lothar’s body. Lothar’s hips jerked forwards in response and Khadgar pulled back, coughing and wincing, before he felt Lothar’s hand rest on the top of his head. It guided him back to his cock, pressure firm and unrelenting. Khadgar settled into a rocking rhythm, eyes closed as he focussed on his task. Lothar’s hand remained on his head, a grounding weight that did not force him to take too much, but did not let him retreat. “They’re uncalloused. You’ve never wielded a weapon, have you?”

Khadgar shrugged and let out a hum of indifference. It was not like he could answer. He felt Lothar’s grip tighten, pulling on his hair as it was trapped between his fingers. “A talented mouth, too. Pretty, even, when it’s quiet. Have you sucked off many men, Khadgar?”

Khadgar looked up in surprise at Lothar’s question - what had happened to pretending he was a whore? He was rewarded with the view of Lothar staring down at him, face flushed and breath coming harshly through his parted lips. Lothar grunted as their eyes met and his hips snapped forwards, bumping his cock against the back of Khadgar’s throat. He recovered best he could, but felt the prick of tears at the corner of his eyes from his gag reflex spasming.

“You look perfect like that,” Lothar muttered, “like you were made to have a cock in your mouth. Can you take me deeper?” He asked, and pushed on the back of Khadgar’s head. 

Khadgar took a quick breath while he could and tried to relax his throat, feeling Lothar’s cock press further. He swallowed against the intrusion, eliciting a moan from the man above him. Short, sharp thrusts pushed him deeper, and Khadgar clung to Lothar’s thighs as he felt him fuck his mouth. His throat convulsed, chest jerking as he gagged on Lothar’s cock; the noises he was making made him blush from their obscenity.

The pressure in his lungs built, in his head, in his nose - he tapped Lothar’s leg, hoping it would tell him he needed him to pull out, that he needed air - he gasped when Lothar did, a desperate exhalation and draw of fresh air - then his mouth was full again, and he pushed back instinctively to get away. But Lothar was insistent, as was the hand that tightened in his hair; Khadgar focussed on relaxing again, tears leaking from his eyes as Lothar pushed in and drew back, grating against his already sore throat. He ached, his back and sides protesting against the use of his gag reflex and his struggle for air. It was awful and it was _brilliant_ , and Khadgar came at a particularly hard thrust from the tentacle that rubbed against just the right place.

He barely had any time to dwell on his orgasm though, as his need for air was urgently apparent; he tapped at Lothar’s thigh again but was ignored, a string of curses escaping Lothar as he thrust in short, sharp jerks, the hand in his hair pulling painfully.

Lothar twitched, a sudden movement counter to his thrusts that seemed out of place.

“Not there,” he muttered, another jerk following his words, “Khadgar!”

Khadgar kept his eyes closed and preyed Lothar would let him breathe, tears welling as he struggled. Obediently, he moved his hands to brace against Lothar’s thighs.

Lothar came, letting out a grunt as he gave a last thrust, his cum hitting the back of Khadgar’s throat then dripping down over his lip as Lothar sagged back and pulled out. Khadgar gasped in air and coughed at once, feeling the viscous gloop propelled from his mouth. He wiped where it dribbled down his chin with the back of his hand, grimacing as he felt it smear.

“You can stop that now,” Lothar said.

Khadgar looked between him and his hand.

“You want me to keep it on my face?”

“What?” Lothar snapped, brow furrowed in irritation as he looked down at Khadgar. “No. Just get your fingers away from my-” He cut himself off with a yelp of surprise, a noise which at any other time coming from Lothar would have been comical.

But rather than laughing, Khadgar found himself staring in horror at the shadowy tentacle pressing up behind Lothar’s balls.

“It’s important you don’t panic,” Khadgar said.

“It’s important _you_ remove your _finger_ from my _asshole_.” Lothar’s words came through gritted teeth, and when Khadgar looked up he could see fury on his face that rivalled any he had seen in battle. Khadgar felt his stomach knot with nerves and he swallowed, slowly raising both his hands up to where Lothar could see them.

Part of him was delighted that there was no flash of pain; but he supposed he and Lothar were joined in a different way. He could almost see the thought process winding through Lothar’s orgasm fogged brain - surprise, confusion, then understanding - then Lothar was a blur of outrage. He _yelled_ curses, at the creature or himself, Khadgar was not sure, but he knew he had only seen and felt this kind of fury from Lothar in the heat of battle.

Lothar flung himself away from Khadgar in a bid to escape; Khadgar was pulled to the floor, a cry of agony escaping as his back smacked against the floorboards and he was dragged across it several feet by the creature’s hold on his balls and ass. It wrenched a shout from both men as the creature was stretched between them and refused to let go. Khadgar gasped against being winded; fresh tears welled in his eyes and barely avoided passing out as he sat up, focusing on breathing steadily.

“GET THIS THING OFF ME!” Lothar had barely finished the words when Khadgar saw the flash of his knife and heard his grunt of pain.

“Idiot!” Khadgar snapped, the word coming out more breathless and less like the admonishment he had planned. He rolled towards his friend, gaze dashing between the creature’s tentacles and the gash along Lothar’s thigh that he had _warned_ him about causing. “I _told_ you it can’t be cut! What were you thinking!” 

He snatched the knife from Lothar, surprised by the lack of protest, and threw it across the room. He had not known Lothar to make stupid mistakes out of fear - that was more his own area of expertise. But the realisation that Lothar was _afraid_ made him stop short, heart wrenching as his mind told him it was his fault; he had put Lothar in this position, he had exposed Lothar to this horror, it was his fault Lothar was injured and scared.

No, Khadgar told himself, it’s his own fault for trying to attack something _immune to physical damage_ with a knife.

Khadgar’s hands fluttered above Lothar’s leg while his brain worked, trying to remember the basics of first aid he had learnt in Dalaran.

“Healing potions and bandages,” he muttered to himself, then stretched to catch Lothar’s face in his hands, forcing him to look at him. “Lothar, I need you to work with me. I know this is a shock. We can tackle the creature in due time but first I need you to stay with me. We have to get across to my satchel without moving too far from one another, otherwise it’ll hurt again.”

Lothar pushed Khadgar away.

“I’m not a fool and a bit of blood isn’t going to immobilise me,” he retorted. His hand pressed against his wound to stem the bloodflow, the cuff of his shirt soaked in it. “I’ve suffered far worse before. Give the signal and we’ll go.”

Khadgar nodded, pleased the fear had not taken Lothar’s senses, and they shuffled across the floor until Khadgar could hook his foot into the satchel’s strap and bring it to them. He passed Lothar a couple of small bottles filled with red liquid - healing potions, and strong, too. He wrapped Lothar’s thigh with a runecloth bandage, hoping those things combined would tide Lothar over until he could see a healer.

Lothar made a noise of discomfort as he finished tying the bandage, and Khadgar was reminded of why they were tending to his leg.

“Before you ask - no, I don’t know why it’s decided to touch you.” Khadgar did not look at him as he rewound the unused bandages, the flush of embarrassment hot on his face. If he could keep himself busy, or _looking_ busy, Khadgar hoped he would be spared the brunt of Lothar’s fury...at least until they were safely separated. But there was only so long he could fiddle with strips of cloth and empty potion bottles, and he became aware very quickly of Lothar watching him.

“You said that would fix it.”

“I said it _should_ ,” Khadgar replied, immediately feeling defensive against Lothar’s blame. How could he have known this wouldn’t appease the creature? An orgasm - or several - had been all it had wanted until now.

Khadgar shifted uncomfortably under Lothar’s scrutiny.

“You’ve not had a partner before.”

“What?” The statement caught Khadgar off guard. “Of course I have! Why do you think- what makes you think that?”

“The creature doesn’t count as a partner,” Lothar said, then sighed. “You got this during your schooling - and you don’t strike me as someone who would have been chasing conquests at a young age. You don’t know how to cope with it with a _human_ partner, so I don’t think you’ve tried to. Until now.”

Khadgar was scarlet.

“I’m not _completely_ inexperienced.”

Lothar smirked.

“That much was clear. But that’s not going to help with this.” He gestured at the creature. Both followed the gesture and were struck by a moment of complete horror. The tentacle that reached to Lothar had visibly changed; rather than a solid - albeit not actually solid - mass, it now appeared hollow...with the exception of what looked like a chicken’s egg making its way through it, slowly edging towards Lothar as the tentacle expanded to accommodate it.

Lothar slammed his hand down between it and his body.

To both of their surprise, that stopped its progress.

“I can feel it against my hand,” Lothar said, his voice oddly calm, “It’s solid.”

Khadgar took the opportunity to test his statement - and found that he, too, could feel it as a solid shape within the ethereal tube.

“ _Fascinating_.” Khadgar exhaled the word, mind whirring about what he could learn from the creature from this. It would make sense if it was indeed an egg; it shared the shape with many others known to him, and if one shaped worked then why deviate from it? The creature’s unique properties would have lent him to thinking its offspring would be similarly intangible, but this suggested otherwise. Perhaps that was a learned trait? Or maybe the egg worked similarly to those of birds and reptiles, and formed a protective casing around a fragile being not yet formed? The being itself could be physically similar to its parent, but unable to pass through the shell until it had passed a certain stage of development.

“Fascinating?” Lothar interrupted Khadgar’s musings, incredulity in his voice. “ _Fascinating?!_ ” 

“Ah, a poor choice of words,” Khadgar said, yet still his mind lingered on it. He could potentially learn so much about the creature that had been using him from its spawn - could he discover the means to remove it from himself safely by observing its development?

“Bit of an understatement,” Lothar muttered, “It’s trying to _lay an egg in me_.”

“Right. Yes. We need to stop it.”

Khadgar frowned at it and tried to quiet the portion of his mind that whispered to let it run its course so he could study it, knowing that was a _very_ bad idea and likely to result in being punched if he suggested it. It was not even a moderately bad idea that he could do in a pinch and hope for the best - so he needed another solution. So. Either it wanted to use Lothar as a host to incubate the egg, or it wanted to spread its spawn into a new host. Or both.

Khadgar tried to ignore Lothar’s fidgeting while he tried to think, weighing potential options and discarding others. The physical properties of the creature were a particularly vexing factor - they could hardly pull the tentacle out, which would have been the optimal course of action.

“Khadgar?” Lothar asked through gritted teeth. Another egg was emerging from the tangle of the creature by Khadgar’s body, slowly making its way towards the one Lothar had stopped.

“I’m thinking!”

Lothar let out a frustrated growl then slammed the heel of his other hand onto the egg. It crunched audibly as it was smashed against the floor and Khadgar _screamed_. His insides felt like they were being ripped apart - a clawing, shredding pain that he knew was the rage and grief of the creature thrashing as its progeny was destroyed.

“I’m sorry Khadgar but I am NOT playing host to this creature. I don’t want to hurt you, but if destroying its eggs is the only way - that’s what I’ll do.”

Khadgar fell to his side and curled up on the floor, sudden, heaving sobs wracking through him as his eyes stung with tears and his spine felt like it was on fire. Oh _light_ it hurt. It hurt more than he thought possible - more than the controlling spines that had forced him to make Lothar stay, more than the compressed strain when it threatened his balls that made him terrified they would burst. He felt sick.

“Lothar, _please_ -” Khadgar whimpered. He was not sure what he wanted, was not sure what he was asking - only that he wanted the pain to stop. He could barely breathe. He tried not to hyperventilate as he felt panic crush his chest, his mind contributing to the physical torment with whispers of paralysis, of debilitation, of death. Khadgar heard another crunch, and knew another egg was smashed - and the pain thrashed within him, making him cry out in a harsh sob as he felt his world narrow to only agony.

This creature would be his end. 

No - his mind corrected - Lothar, in his selfishness, will.

“It won’t kill you, it can’t risk it.” Lothar’s words broke through the haze of pain and Khadgar snarled at them - but the noise sounded broken to his ears, the viciousness lost in his abused throat. “You’re its host. If it kills you, where will it go? How will it survive?”

“You don’t _know_ that.” Khadgar gasped the words between sharp inhales as his chest spasmed against his tears. 

“I’m willing to stake your life on it.”

Khadgar shivered at the coldness of the words and curled in on himself tighter.

“Khadgar.” His name was spoken tenderly, but he flinched against it and the hand that touched his shoulder. “I cannot be compromised. I agreed to help unless it posed a threat to the kingdom. If things were different, if we weren’t who we are…” Lothar sighed.

This was not personal. 

Lothar was making this decision as regent, for the good of the kingdom; to give Stormwind a regent without a parasitic monster incubating inside him.

Lothar was not being selfish.

Khadgar felt a wave of guilt at having thought that about his friend and his tears came harder. The hand on his shoulder moved to his forehead. The pain still raged, but he was able to feel the tenderness in the gesture as Lothar wiped the sweat from his brow and stroked his hair. He felt a calmness settle as he was petted, the repetitive smoothing of his hair soothing.

“I don’t know how much you can hear,” Lothar said, “Or how much you can understand. Pain does funny things to people. But I’ve had an idea… and I hope you can forgive me.”

Lothar’s hand left his hair, and Khadgar let out a forlorn whine at the loss. Now he had nothing to distract him from the pain, nothing to focus on but his own mind that taunted him, telling him it was his own fault, telling him he always knew his curiosity paired with ill-thought-out plans would kill him one day, telling him things he tried not to admit but that always emerged when he was at his lowest to try and drag him into oblivion.

But then Lothar’s hand was on his hip, his other pressed against his back.

“I need you to get up. Can you roll onto your knees?”

Lothar’s hands guided him as he rocked to the side, folding his legs beneath him until he was partially crouched, face hidden in his arms and chest flat on the floor. He could feel his breath reflected hotly back onto his face, and his arms were damp with tears. He tried to focus on the feel of Lothar’s hands, pretending they brought relief to the pain that gripped him. Had he been without it, he would have been embarrassed by the position he had been guided into, especially with Lothar behind him; but as it was, he barely noticed how Lothar had arranged him, oblivious to having his ass raised.

He heard Lothar take a shaky breath, and felt keenly the loss of the hand on his back. The hand at his hip moved to grip an ass cheek, thumb digging in as it was groped and pulled aside.

“Lothar, what are you-” Khadgar’s muffled words cut off when he felt the press of a fingertip against his hole. It slipped in easily, the slick from the tentacles easing the way; Lothar made a surprised noise, and Khadgar gasped against his arms. This was strange, it was wrong - he was not turned on, he had not asked for this, _why was Lothar doing this?_

Lothar removed his finger, and once again Khadgar felt the pain wash over him. He was drowning in it. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to skip past it, he wanted to rip the creature from him and damn the consequences-

Khadgar froze when he felt Lothar press something against him, the blunt curve feeling so much like the head of the wooden plug he wore on occasion when _he_ wanted to get off, rather than the creature.

“Lothar?”

He was shushed and felt the pressure grow, and willed himself to relax. Oddly, he felt the pain begin to abate. Was it truly, or was he simply so focussed on the anal intrusion it felt less? His mind snagged on the question while he felt the stretch of his ass around the widening intrusion; then the stretch was gone, and he felt the strange but familiar sensation of something solid and immobile in his ass.

Lothar’s fingers twitched.

Khadgar groaned, realising they were inside him; and his cock began waking in response to the sensation. When Lothar spoke his voice was strained.

“How’s the pain?”

The pain was… _gone?_

Khadgar felt a rush of arousal flow through him and a sense of gratefulness settle in his gut. Was that from him or the creature?

“It’s fine,” Khadgar replied, voice still broken with the aftermath of tears. “Gone fine - not saying it’s fine when it’s not, fine.”

“Thank the light.” Lothar breathed.

“Can- can you tell me what you’re doing?” His breathing hitched as a tentacle wrapped around his cock, squeezing enough to be pleasurable without crossing into pain.

“Later,” Lothar replied, “Just focus on the sensations and try to enjoy this.”

Khadgar did not like that answer. But he let out a moan instead of a reprimand as he felt Lothar’s fingers slide into him further, their movement pushing the object deeper; panic flared in Khadgar’s mind. What if this thing got stuck there? _What_ was Lothar doing? It seemed as if he was constantly moving - Khadgar could feel his fingers twist and flex, could feel a slight burn in the stretch when Lothar added a third, could feel the mass as he pushed it deeper than he could reach before; everything was pleasure, and Khadgar found he could not bring himself to worry because it felt _so good_.

“Lothar…” A noise of pleasure broke the word as Lothar’s fingers withdrew, only to be replaced by another of the bluntly curved objects. As Khadgar felt Lothar ease it into his ass it clicked into place in his mind; these were the creatures’ eggs. That thought should have filled him with horror, but did not. Instead, a sense of everything being _right_ swam through Khadgar, and he could feel Lothar’s fingers again, pressing and moving and curling and _oh_ so different to tentacles. The tentacles themselves writhed against his cock, pumping and pleasuring and coaxing his erection to weep from the sensations; and then he wasn’t thinking but was moving his hips and rocking back onto Lothar’s fingers and moaning into the floor, forehead pressed against it and finding he could not care about the wanton sounds he was making because it was _so good_. A grunt came from Lothar and Khadgar felt hot wetness streak across his ass - and _oh_ , he felt delightfully full and it was _Lothar_ who was fucking him with his fingers, _Lothar’s_ come on his skin, _Lothar’s_ heavy breathing filling the space between his own; and it was Lothar’s name that came from his lips when he spilled his seed onto the floor.

He came down from the high of orgasm slowly, his mind hazy and uncooperative as he lay where he was and tried to reason and make reality cooperate. Shouldn’t he be in pain?

He opened his eyes at the sound of movement - a roll onto his back with a grunt at the strain and the way he ached told him that the eggs were very much still there, a solid weight in his ass that felt peculiar but not uncomfortable. He was greeted by the sight of Lothar looking down on him, wash basin in hand.

“Can you heat it?” Lothar asked and set it down next to him, before offering a hand to help Khadgar sit up. He took it - and felt the eggs shift inside him as he moved, a tremor of pleasure running through him as they did.

Khadgar nodded, focussed on the bowl, and placed his hands against the ceramic - a quick incantation later, and steam rose from the water’s surface.

“Tricks like that make me wish I could do your fancy spell chucking.”

Khadgar snorted.

“Trust me, you’d hate the runework and spellweaving.”

“Probably,” Lothar said, “but having hot water on demand… Maybe I should take you on more campaigns. Rather than ‘Mage Consul’ you could be ‘Water Heater’.”

“Do that and I’ll keep your bathwater so hot you could never bathe.” Khadgar gave him a withering stare that Lothar shrugged off with a grin.

They washed in silence, sharing the cloth and soap Lothar had found by the basin. Khadgar felt like he could do with a proper bath, but this would do for now - and be enough to clean the worst from him.

When Lothar was done he remained at Khadgar’s side.

“You’re free of the creature. Why haven’t you left?” Khadgar asked before setting the cloth down. It had come out a lot more confrontational than he had aimed for - considering he had spoken out of curiosity and not irritation - and he winced as his words hung between them like an accusation.

Lothar gave him a grim smile.

“Because I know when I leave you’ll blame yourself for all of this and turn it inwards. I know you’ll shut it up tight in the back of your mind, and only let it out when you’re at your worst and can’t fight against yourself to keep it locked away.”

Khadgar decided it was a good time to study the wash basin, the truth of Lothar’s words making him not want to listen, or not admit how right he was. Lothar continued.

“Because if I left before we’ve talked this all through and worked out what happens next, I’ll not be able to concentrate and I _need_ to be at my best, for the good of the kingdom. But you also deserve answers, and I didn’t want to wait to give them to you. When I crushed the second egg, the creature recoiled. Maybe it panicked, if it’s capable of that. It pulled away from me and dumped the crushed remains on the floor, along with two more, unharmed, eggs.”

“You hoped by putting them in me the creature would notice and stop hurting me,” Khadgar said, then smiled slightly. “That’s a plan worthy of being one of mine.”

Lothar grinned sidelong at him.

“Do something stupid and keep your fingers crossed it works? Sounds about right.”

They shared a moment of smiles before Khadgar sobered and looked away.

“I’m sorry I put you through this.”

Lothar shook his head.

“Apology accepted, but not needed. You need to apologise to yourself, too. It was a tricky situation - you handled it…. Not _well _, but as well as I could expect you to.”__

__“Great praise.”_ _

__“When _you’re_ involved, creative encouragement is warranted.”_ _

__“Would you call coming on my ass ‘creative encouragement’?”_ _

__Lothar blushed. Khadgar felt a thrill of successfully pushing one of Lothar’s sore spots and could not help the grin that spread on his face in response._ _

__“I was reacting to the situation. Don’t read too much into it.”_ _

__“So what did it for you?” Khadgar asked, unable to let it go without giving Lothar a ribbing, “Was it the eggs? I wouldn’t have thought you’d be into that given how you reacted to the creature-”_ _

__“It was the trust you had in me.”_ _

__Khadgar paused with his teasing, not having expected such an honest answer - and especially not that quick._ _

__“Really?”_ _

__Lothar nodded._ _

__“I could have done anything to you. Anything. You were in no position to agree with or refuse me, but you trusted me.”_ _

__“Of course I trusted you. I’d trust you with my life - I have, on more than one occasion.”_ _

__“This felt different,” Lothar said. “Trust in combat is different to trust in intimacy. There are different boundaries, different levels of control-”_ _

__“-and in combat you don’t have your fingers in another guy’s ass?”_ _

__The washcloth slapped into Khadgar’s grinning face._ _

__“You’re an ass.”_ _

__“An ass you’ve fingered.”_ _

__“ _Still_ an ass.” Lothar then paused, the smile fading from his face. “But in all seriousness, we need to work this through. We both took advantage of each other because of that creature, and we cannot allow this to happen again.” _ _

__Khadgar sighed. He was right, of course._ _

__“What do you propose we do?”_ _

__“First, we get dressed. I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon here, where we can discuss this privately.”_ _

__“And second?”_ _

__“Second, I send for a Kirin Tor representative to meet with us.”_ _

__“Why?” Khadgar asked, “They can’t help with this.”_ _

__“They wouldn’t help you with the creature before, but it was just you affected then.”_ _

__“ _Couldn’t_ ,” Khadgar corrected, then paused, his words careful. “It’s only me affected now.”_ _

__“It’s not. You’re my spell chucker.”_ _

__At Khadgar’s blank look, Lothar clarified._ _

__“You’re ‘Mage Consul to the Regent of Stormwind’. Your wellbeing affects how well you can carry out your duties - and that affects the wellbeing of the kingdom.”_ _

__“That still doesn’t mean-”_ _

__“If they can’t help, we will work with them until they can. I’ll insist.”_ _

__“...Thank you,” Khadgar said, but it was not just a thanks for Lothar’s determined stance regarding the creature. It was a thanks for Lothar’s level head, for Lothar’s support, for Lothar’s not judging his foolish past choices and instead focusing on how to fix them. But mostly, it was a thanks for saying he would send for someone, rather than sending Khadgar to Dalaran - which would likely have been the easier option._ _

__It was a thanks for not making him ride a gryffon with two large eggs stuffed up his ass._ _


End file.
